A/N: To understand this you have to read my story 'Lost and found again'. This little thing has been with me even before I ended 'Lost…'!

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Place: Valinor.

After twenty years I had found you.

And after six hundred years I have lost you…again.

The grief is almost too much to bear. Although I knew I would lose you eventually.

You did not choose the immortal life of my people; you got the Gift of Men.

The Doom of Men is a better name.

I do not pretend to understand why death should be a gift.

Perhaps in time I will understand…

I have seen so many elves and men die in battle, but watching you slowly grow older and more fragile was even worse.

I held you in my arms when your heart stopped giving you life.

You had a small smile around your lips as if too say 'do not worry for me father, I shall be fine. You have to keep on living for the both of us now.'

Yes, I will keep on living.

I will keep the memory of your short existence alive.

Never will I forget the joyful times we have had.

The trips to Lothlórien, Mirkwood, Gondor, Ithilien.

The many hunting trips we have made, not only together, but with the Elrohir and Elladan as well.

Then, the biggest and most important trip of our lives…west over the Great Sea, to Aman.

I can still clearly remember your fear. Fear of being denied setting foot on the beautiful beaches of Valinor, because of your mixed blood.

Only when we came upon Túna and entered Tirion did you believe you were allowed to stay.

But not even the Valar could give you immortality…not against your own will.

You, so shortly raised by Men, choose to be counted among them as well.

The only thing the Valar, nay…only Ilúvatar could give you was prolonged life.

My heart broke as my last hope of keeping you with me faded.

Never shall I hear your voice again.

Never shall I hear you laugh again.

Never shall I be able to hold again.

Never…

Never will I forget you.

Never will I stop missing you, my son.

My Thomas.

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A/N: Review please. *pulls out a box of hankies*